


Puppetmaster

by Writing_hazard



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Emotional Hurt, Haikyuu-hell is a thing, I am to old for this shit, M/M, drabble-ish despite the length, editing took forever and still sucks, happy-ish ending, how does one tag?, kuroo is an asshole but comes to see the light, tsukki can't deal with all the feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-30 23:20:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6446269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writing_hazard/pseuds/Writing_hazard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Stupid, he chided himself. As if he didn’t know better. As if opening up to someone didn’t always end in hurt. As if Kuroo would be any different.  As if there was any reason for the Nekoma Captain to see anything in him but a way to entertain himself and pass the time.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>In which Kuroo plays a game only to have the table turn on him, Tsukki loses whatever litte faith in humanity he ever had and everybody hurts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Puppetmaster

_**Life on strings** _

  


Close the curtains  
gently,  
so that I do not wake  
from my dreams.  
Open my heart.  
Break it. 

Tear away the sentimental thoughts  
clinging to its bloody bottom.  
Shatter the remains.  
Spread them out.  
Stretch the flesh.  
Smear the blood.  
Write letters of complaint  
and letters of love  
with it.  
When you go,  
go gently  
into the vast field  
that is me  
that is you  
that never was us.  
Gently  
shatter  
what  
I  
was. 

_I dreamt  
the puppetmaster  
was me._

   


**I.**

  
„… and really, it’s just fun to rile him up. Once you know what to say, it’s a matter of two or three right words, a casual hand placed here, an arm around his shoulders there and he’s blushing like mad. Wouldn’t put it past him to come confessing anytime soon.“

„Kuroo…“

„No, I am telling you. When we asked him over to practice back then I didn’t expect this to turn out to be so much fun…“

„Kuroo.“

Kenma’s tone had changed. He rarely became stern, but when he did, one better listened. So Kuroo, who had been busy sorting his training clothes into his bag, looked up at his best friend. From the corner of his eye he noticed movement at the other end oft he room. When he shifted his gaze towards the door oft he dressing room, he caught a glimpse of an all to familiar shock of blond hair before it disappaered.  
  
„Oh. Well.“  
  
He felt his stomach drop. Kenmas eyes still were on him and when he turned back to him, a silly quip on his lips about how he’d have to probably stop teasing Karasunos middle blocker so much now that the proverbial cat was out oft he bag, he was met with a stare that was, by Kenmas standards, furious.  
  
In an instance, all pretense fell away. Who was he even trying to kid. He really should have known better than to bring his show to Kenma. Should have known he’d see right through him and his airy comments, making light of something that actually went much deeper than he was ready to admit. The boy had known him practically for forever and he definitely knew him too well to believe a word of what he had just said.  
  
Kuroo ran his hand through his perpetual bedhead and leaned back against the locker.  
  
„I fucked up, didn’t I.“  
  
Kenmas attention shifted back to his handheld.  
  
„Sure did.“  
  
„Kenma, look, I…“  
  
The younger boy held a hand up to silence his captain.  
  
„Wrong adress.“  
  
Kuroo led his head fall back, connecting painfully with the door oft he locker.

**II.**

  
When coach Ukai had announced another joint training camp with Nekoma, Tsukishima had been apprehensive. While he certainly had profitted from the last one, it also meant that the number of annoyingly loud and enthusiastic people would double. It meant sleeping in a stuffy gym, no room for privacy, and most of all, it meant facing Nekomas charismatic captain Kuroo Tetsuro again. He hadn’t seen him since the last camp, but his mind had certainly gone wandering back to Kuroo every now and then. As much as he was loath to admit it, the man had earned his respect. He would even go as far as to say that he looked up to him and he knew for a fact he still could learn a lot from him. Deep down, he was also aware oft eh fact that on top oft hat, there was something else that caused his mind to wander back to the time spent with Kuroo, but he refused to acknowledge that.  
  
He had decided a long time ago that getting attached to people was out of the question. He had allowed Yamaguchi into his life and that was as much of a compromise as he was willing to make. While his relationship with his brother had slowly but steadily improved again over the last months, he would not risk disappointment again.  
  
Kuroo, however, seemed to have other plans. He had been all over him from the minute the Karasuno bus had come to a halt in front of the gym. He had roped him into extra blocking practice right from day one, and much to his own anoyance, Tsukishima had agreed far to readily. At first, he was happy that at least Fukorodanis walking menace Bokuto wasn’t around, but after half an hour of practice and of his eyes and mind wandering over far to regularly to Kuroo, he found himself almost missing the obnoxious owl-wannabe.  
  
They had spent much oft he last three evenings in each others company, with Kuroo alternately riling him up with comments about his lack of enthusiasm, stamina, technique or whatever else he could come up with and strangely intimate touches and gestures. Tsukkishima had found himself constantly reeling and at a loss, oscillating between quiet anger and open embarresment.  
  
Still, in between there had been good moments. Moments he had come to treasure. Short discussions about volleyball in general, games they had played, camp, but also, oddly, personal bits and pieces. To his own amazement, he had even shared a few words about how Akiteru had lied to him and consequently ruined their relationship . Kuroo had told him about how he had already moved out from home a year ago because he couldn’t stand his parents fighting anymore.  
  
If someone had asked him, he couldn’t even have said what it was that had made him open up a little towards Kuroo. Maybe it had been the fact that the other boy saw right through him anyway. The obvious differences in temperament aside, they were surprisingly similiar in many regards. They both liked to play on other people’s weaknesses to see what it did to them. They both were perceptive without even trying. They saw people for what they were, quick to analyse any given situation, smart, gifted with a sharp tongue and a sometimes biting wit, but honest.  
  
Or so Tsukishima had thought. Until he had overheard Kuroo boast to Kenma about how he had played him, tried to manipulate him every step along the way, for fun. Well, not only tried, but succeeded, Tsukishima had to admit. He had felt himself gravitate towards Kuroo more and more. Had followed his train of thoughts into the directon of a certain bedhead, the intense ganze from under hooded eyes, the way Kuroo held himself, the way he moved, self confident and with an air of superiority, but never arrogant. He had even, on occassion, allowed himself to admit to himself how _right_ it had felt when Kuroos hand accidently – or rather, quite calculatingly, as he now knew – had brushed his arm, when their shoulders touched, when the third year had casually thrown an arm around his shoulder and kept it there, talking to him, or how he had moved past him closer than seemingly necessary. Far to quickly, he had come to look forward to those little momens.  
  
Stupid, he chided himself. As if he didn’t know better. As if opening up to someone didn’t always end in hurt. As if Kuroo would be any different. As if there was any reason for the Nekoma Captain to see anything in him but a way to entertain himself and pass the time.  
  
After he’d overheard Kuroos tale, he’d turned and simply left the dressing room, whatever he had wanted there in the first place forgotten. The last thing he had caught was Kuroo saying „Oh. Well.“  
  
For Kuroo, having been found out like that probably wasn’t anymore than a minor mishap. For Tsukishima, though…  
  
Hearing those words had drained him of every bit of warmth. Despite the summer heat, he shivered, cold seeping through his body, numbing him. He had no idea where he was going but he couldn’t care less. Everytwhere but here was fine.  
  
It was only when he realised that his headphones where back in the gym, that he forced himself to turn around. He needed to get away but he needed to drown himself in music more. He took a deep breath and turned around, not looking left or right, ignoring several comments made by the people he passed, with only one goal in mind.  
  
He ripped his headphones out of his backpack, turned on his heel and marched out oft he hall again. He fumbled with the cord while biting back the tears that threatened to fall any moment now.  
  
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.  
  
Tsukishima had almost left the gym grounds behind when he heard him call out.  
  
He kept walking. He heard footsteps behind him, then the sound of someone breaking into a jogg. He wanted to run, but forced himself to keep a steady pace. A hand came up to his shoulder, trying to stop him. He shrugged it off, pained by how familiar the touch had already become. The sensation of anothe betrayal, another belief lost slowly crept up.  
  
„Kei…“

**III.**

  
Kuroo had left the dressing room shortly after Tsukishima. He knew he should have followed him, should have explain himself, but right now, he didn’t know what to say. _How_ to explain himself.  
  
What had started as a little well-meant teasing had spiralled out of controle. All he had wanted to do was to coax the first year out of his shell a little more, to see what made him tick. But the more time he spent with him, the more he felt drawn towards Tsukishima. Sure, what he had said to Kenma was true. The boy had responded to his provocations, but far less so than Kuroo had hoped. He’d kept his anger quiet, had been more in control of his reactions than the first time they had met. And while he had blushed on several occasions, he had handled Kuroos physical advances much more cooly than Kuuro had liked. He had _wanted_ him to react. The more that had dawned on him, the more stubborn he had gotten, ignoring that already by the end oft he first day, the joke had been on him.  
  
He had refused to admit that it was him who had fallen for the other boy. For the exhasperated huffs Tsukki gave when people behaved in a way he deemed stupid, for his new found ambition that he hid so well but never quite well enough, for the little spark of passion that now sat in honey-coloured eyes whenever he was on the court and for the ghost of a smile that sometimes tugged on the corners of his mouth when he thought nobody was watching. He had fallen hard for the sharp mind and the way he could express himself so clearly with only a few words. For the boy that was still hurting from the loss of his idol, the fallout with his brother.  
  
And he hated it, because from where he stood it didn’t look like his feelings were reciprocated. He knew he had gotten under Tsukishimas skin with his behaviour, but it was far more likely that this stemmed from a general inexperience in handling people who invaded his personal space so ruthlessly than anyting else. So he had tried to convince himself that it was still his game. That it was still him who pulled the strings.  
  
How ridiculous to believe that reality could be changed so easily. Kenma had seen right through him. Hell, the boy had probably known before himself.  
  
Kuroo groaned silently, punching the wall on the way out of the gym. He’d go for a run to clear his head and then think about how to make amends.  
  
He stepped out of the gym tot he view of someone leaving the gym grounds. He’d know that person even from miles away.  
  
„Tsukki, wait!“  
  
It wasn’t a concious decision to call out to him. He still didn’t even know what he was going to say, but he knew he’d behaved like a total asshole and he was willing to fess up to it. The rest would come.  
  
Tsukkishima seemed less willing to let him, though.  
  
Kuroo could have let him go, could have tried at a later point to explain himself but suddenly that seemed impossible. He knew the other boy too well to not know that by the next time he’d see him, his barriers would be up. He might not get another chance, so he needed to sort this out right now. He jogged up to Tsukishima, closing the distance between them with a few steps.  
  
The set of his shoulders, the way Tsukishima kept his gaze forward and remained silent told Kuroo that his words had had a bigger impact than he had anticipated. Maybe…  
  
He needed to fix this.  
  
He reached for Tsukkishimas shoulder, trying to stop him from moving further away, but was shaken off in one fluid motion, without as much as a glance back. Like his touch was revolting, the closeness that had developed during the last days erased in one motion.  
  
„Kei…“  
  
„No.“  
  
The sound of this one syllable would come to haunt Kuroo. It was the most broken sound he’d ever heard. It carried hurt and fury and despair .  
  
It was still ringing in his ears when, in an instant, everything changed. Tsukishimas shoulders, slumped a moment ago, squared, and Kuroo wachted impenetrable walls sliding back into place.  
  
Tsukishima turned around, the usually honey coloured eyes dark and empty. His mouth was drawn into a thin line but there was no strain, no surpressed anger or hint of fury or sadness. There was nothing.  
  
„You don’t get to call me that.“  
  
When he turned back, Kuroo felt something break between them.  
  
„Ever.“  
  
Something broke within him.

**IV.**

  
Tsukishima swiped his phone, deleting the messages that had piled up, unread. He emptied his mailbox without bothering to listen to any oft he messages. Yamaguchi knew better than to leave him voicemails and it really didn’t matter what anyone else had so say.  
  
He could have blocked Kuroos number, but it wasn’t worth the effort. He simply didn’t pick up or respond. Kuroo would let up eventually.  
  
„Don’t you think you should at least listen to him?“  
  
Yamaguchi had asked that question more than once.  
  
Tsukkishimas answere remained the same.  
  
„No.“  
  
Yamaguchi tried to press the matter a few times, until Tsukishima finally had enough.  
  
„Yamaguchi, you can go and befriend whomever you like. I don’t give a damn about whether you think Kuroo is a good guy deep down and didn’t mean any harm. You will drop this right now or you can go and pester other people from now on.“  
  
His friends eyes had gone wide in shock before he dropped his head, nodding miserably.  
  
If Tsukishima had still allowed himself to feel something, it would have pained him to see Yamaguchi like that, and he might have apologized. Now, he just turned around and walked towards class, not even paying attention to whether his friend followed suit.

**V.**

  


Kuroo had never felt so sick before a match. It was a only a friendly, meant to help prepare for the interhigh, but the prospect of seeing Tsukishima turned his stomach. He’d tried everything short of simply showing up on the other boys door step, but getting through tot he blond by now proved to be impossible. He had even tried to enlist Yamaguchis help, until the boy had meekly told him he’d not be able to stand up for him anymore for fear of losing Tsukishimas friendship altogether.  
  
Now he was supposed to go up against Karasuno and act like nothing had happend, at least on the court. He still didn’t unerstand fully how this all had gone so terribly wrong. He knew he had crossed a line, but it was hard to make amends when one didn’t get the chance.  
  
He had told himself over and over that he could always just drop it, but there was that constant, almost desperate need to make things right. To let Tsukishima know that it wasn’t him he had lied to. That he had fucked up royaly, but that he had not faked anything but his ridiculous speach to Kenma.  
  
He still hadn’t come to terms with his feelings for Karasunos middle blocker. He couldn’t get him out of his mind. The whole thing had simply gone over his head. Kuroo was at a loss.  
  
The first thing he noticed when Karasuno entered the hall was how different the athmosphere in the team was. Everyone seemed weary of their middle blocker, but at the same time, as soon as they came into contact with Nekoma, there was a underlying protectiveness. They mingled with the other team but never let anyone but Kenma closer to Tsukishima. Amazingly enough, the otherwise so perceptive blond didn’t seem to notice.  
  
His blocks had gotten so much better. He was a marvel to watch at times. He even shut Lev down almost completely for a while, but nothing drew any emotion. While his team mates celebrated his achievements, he simply shrugged and played on.  
Kuroo hated what he saw, but he could do nothing. He tried to concentrate on the game, but he never really managed to focus. They won in the end, but barely so and certainly not due to his performance.  
  
When they got back onto the bus, all that Kuroo was left with were the two curt nods Tsukishima had awarded him in a manner of a greeting and a goodbye and the hollow feeling in his chest. He leaned his head against the window, closing his eyes.  
  
„It’s gonna stay like that, huh.“  
  
His voice was hoarse and he remembered the feeling of something breaking he’s had had all those weeks back.  
Kenma lightly patted his arm but said nothing.

**VI.**

  
_Two years later_  
  
Why anyone had thought it a great idea to invite an university team for practice was beyond Tsukishima. He understood even less why any university team would actually take them up on the offer. But what pissed him off most was that it was _his_ team. Still all muscles, perpertual bedhead, smiles and charm. Still ruling the court, still blocking like a one-man-wall. Still watching him, always taxing his every move.  
  
It would have been different if Tsukishima had known. But since he had almost made an effort to not know anything about Kuroo Tetsuros whereabouts after he left Nekoma, he had been hit by the first pang of emotion in what was probably years, simply because seeing the cheshire cat grin had propelled his mind back to a time when he still actually could feel something.  
  
However, this was their last chance to have a go at nationals. They were all in their last year, and while he couldn’t care less about what anyone else around him felt, he would be damned if he didn’t at least try to shut out as many of the hailed and praised aces in the line up as he could. It was the only thing he could draw any kind of satisfaction from these days. Breaking the players on the other side oft he court. Seeing their belief wane, the joy melt from their faces like candlewax, watching despair slowly taking over. He loved pulling their strings, driving them to a place where they made predictable mistakes. He had developed a sixth sense for any spikers weakness and he commanded Karasunos front line with the precision of a weathered general.  
  
He knew the university team was a competetive one but he wasn’t willing to give them any credit for it. They were stronger than Karasuno, hands down, but that had never deterred the idiots he called his team mates and if nothing else, it was good practice trying to go against them. He barely acknowleged Kuroo, resuming his position on the field and then losing himself completely in the game.  
  
They lost in two straight sets. Kageyama and Hinata made a fuss as per usual, asking for a rematch. Tsukishima ignored them, thanked the other team for the game, told the first years to clean up and proceeded to the dressing room, Yamaguchi sharp on his heels.  
  
„Tsukki…“  
  
„No.“  
  
„Tsukki…!“  
  
His fist coiled into the fabric of Yamaguchis shirt as he yanked him closer.  
  
„I’ve told you to drop it and I _hate_ to repeat myself. Did I make myself clear?“  
  
Most of his teammates had become weary of him over the last years and he had wondered in passing more than once why they still tolerated him at all, let alone made him captain, but what he saw in Yamaguchis eyes now was fear. He let go.  
  
„Leave me alone.“  
  
He left the other boy standing where he was and proceeded into the dressing room.  
  
„Yamaguchi, are you okay?“  
  
At the sound of Kuroos voice, Tsukishima closed the door behind him.  
  
It flew open again a split second later, then he felt himself yanked out oft he room by the collar of his shirt. He had no time to gather his bearings before he was pushed inside the storage room with Kuroo following suit. The door closed with a bang and a moment later, he found himself looking at Kuroo, his back to the wall with nowhere to go.  
  
„What the…“  
  
„Shut up.“  
  
Kuroo stood mere inches in front of him, his hands pressed against the wall left and right to Tsukishimas shoulders, his gaze steady on the other boys face. Tsukishima hadn’t planned to obey, but no words would come.  
  
„You will listen to me closely now, and once I am done, we are done. I’ll not try to talk to you anymore, if you so wish, so you’ll be rid of me once and for all.  
  
First of all, I am sorry. Stupid as it might sound, but I still am. What happened two years ago was ridiculous and utterly unneccessary, but I was proud and arrogant, an ignorant idiot and an asshole. For that I apologize. What you heard me say to Kenma was bullshit. I tried to keep my ego intact because I wasn’t ready to face the fact that a mere first year had managed to get under my skin so deep I didn’t even notice in the beginning.“  
  
Tsukishima fought to keep his breathing even, to keep the rising panic at bay. He pulled back, hiding deeper within himself, behind the walls he’d raised up two years ago. He wished he could move, but Kuroo had pinned him into place without even touching him. He was frozen, like a dear caught in the headlight.  
  
Kuroo still looked him in the eyes, his gaze never wanderin and Tsukkishima watched a small, sad smile spread before it disappeared again.  
  
„I had it bad for you, and boy, do I understand. You were fucking beautiful and complex, constantly pulling me in and pushing me away. I hated that you didn’t feel the same and I was proud and stupid and told myself stories of how I was just playing games, just to feel better. You had told me about Akiteru, so seriously, I should not have been so surprised at your reaction and forced you to listen to me. I didn’t, and when I finally tried it was too late, because your teammates had made it their business to protect you.“  
  
Who had what?  
  
For a moment, Tsukishima was at a complete loss.  
  
And then memories came. Memories of how no Nekoma player apart from Kenma, whom he didn’t mind, ever came close to him after that second camp. How almost miraculously, whenever someone seemed to approach him, they got distracted by some other Karasuno player. How Daichi usually had roped Kuroo into some Captain to Captain heart to heart. How, at one team barbecue, Kageyama had picked a fight with Kuroo even Tsukishima failed to understand. Until now.  
  
Why?  
  
Kuroo seemed to read his confusion, giving a slight nod, anger now lurking in the steady gaze that held his.  
  
„So yes. I fucked up. But I refuse to take responsibility for more than that, and hell if I let you blame me for the misery you’ve made yourself live in. I hurt you, I get that. But it’s time for you to get down from your high horse and take a long hard look at yourself. Do you really think you haven’t hurt a shit ton of people yourself? Do you really think, withdrawing yourself from everything and everyone is the painless way to go?“  
  
Looking at Kuroo became almost unbearable.  
  
„You are a coward, Tsukishima Kei, and an asshole on top of that. You’ve gone through life hurting people left, right and center those last two years and you’ve done so thinking it’s alright because woe is me, Kuroo has hurt me, so it’s my right. I call bullshit.“  
  
He hadn’t raised his voice, but evey word cut.  
  
„How long have you known that Yamaguchi was in love with you? How long have you wondered why the team kept you around, even making you captain? How many thoughts have you spared your family or every single person that has looked out for you and cared about you that you have denied even the tiniest bit of recognition and affection?“  
  
At the mention of Yamaguchi, Tsukishima clenched his fists.  
  
„Tadashi is with Yachi now.“  
  
„Does that matter? Does that take away the hurt you inflicted on him because little hurt Tsukki couldn’t give a damn to care about the one person who would never even think of leaving his side, of letting you down, because you were to busy licking your wounds?“  
  
Memories of how unhappy and even sick Yamaguchi had looked for a while a year ago came back unbidden. He had known. Of course he had. But there was nothing he could have done, or so he had told himself. He had never felt for Tadashi that way. And yet…  
  
Tsukkishima stared at the ground , unable to face Kuroo any longer.  
  
„So. I will repeat myself. I will not take the blame for this. I am not responsible for what you have done to a multitude of people and most of all, to yourself.“  
  
He felt Kuroo relax a little in front of him, his hands leaving the wall. He reached up and then Tsukishima felt a gentle hand on his cheek, turning his head back to face Kuroo.  
  
„People hurt each other, Tsukki. They always will, whether on purpose or not. It’s hart and it stinks and it sometimes makes you wonder if it’s worth it, but denying yourself any connection is not the solution. You are a damn lucky bastard, having a team that sticks around and will fight tooth and nail for their captain. You have your brother, who probably still thinks it’s all his fault and worries about how to fix this, how to make you happy again. You have Yamaguchi, who must be the most amazing guy I know for the way he stuck around no matter what you put him through. You are so incredibly loved and yet you have the audacity to shut yourself out. To keep those walls raised and wallow behind them in self pitty.  
  
It’s painful to see, really. If you could see yourself, you‘ d huff and role your eyes before stalking of into the other direction.  
  
I know I did wrong by you but this? This is your doing. And only you can fix it. I might be the last person you are taking requests from but… do it. Fix it. Fix yourself. Before you really and truly end up alone.“

  


By now, all bravado seemed to have left Kuroo. He let go of him and Tsukishima felt himself immediately missing the warmth of his touch, desperately keeping himself from following Kuroos hand just to have his fingers linger for a second longer.  
  
Kuroo ran his hands through his hair, messing it up even worse, and then pushed them into his pockets.  
  
„Sometimes I wish we could go back. Get it right. But I guess that’s done for.“

  


Tsukishima let his head fall back against the wall, looking at the ceiling in an attempt to make the tears flow back that were coming by now. His mind wandered back to the beginning, to Kuroos apology. To him admitting to having had feelings, just like he had had himself. The laugh that broke free hurt. It hurt, because his throat was so dry it was soar and seemed to constrict with every breath he took and it hurt because it carried all the sadness and the anger that resulted from the incredible feeling of loss that hit him the moment he understood that he could have had it all.  
  
Suddenly, speaking was easy. It didn’t matter anymore. He had been runing for a good two years, only to find himself face to face with Kuroo again. There was nowhere left to go.  
  
He dropped his head again, searching until he found Kuroos gaze, holding it when he did.  
  
„I was in love with you. I was equally in denial. Didn’t stop the whole thing from hurting like hell.“  
  
The tears came slowly but steady now. He didn’t bother to wipe them away, knowing it would be a battle he could only lose. He gave a small sigh.  
  
„You are right, though.“  
  
He wasn’t prepeared fort he surge of emotion the simple admittance would bring on. He could feel the walls he had build over the last years crumble rapidly and he had to close his eyes to avoid being completely overwhelmed. The intensity of it all scared him and for a moment, he considered simply retreating back into himself. But he still felt Kuroos eyes on him, strangely reassuring. He had fucked up bad, and yet Kuroo had come back. He knew, he had one more thing to say. He owed him that much. Steadying himself, he took a deep breath and opened his eyes again, locking them with Kuroos.  
  
„Thank you. For the apology. But more so for your honesty.“  
  
„Kei…“  
  
More than two years, yet it sounded exactly the same. It had brought his whole world to a halt back then. Right now it might just have set it back in motion.  
  
„You don’t get to call me that.“  
  
Kuroos shoulders dropped a little but he gave the smallest nod.  
  
„Yet."

With Kuroo, he would learn, honesty always payed off. The embrace that came didn’t make the pain go away. It didn’t take care of all the amends he would have to make. It could not bring back two years of lost opportunitie, couldn’t erase all the hurt he had inflicted on people who deserved better. But it brought him home.  


**Author's Note:**

> The text in the beginning is an old one from back when I was unhappy, lonely and constantly afraid to be left behind. When I came across it again, it sparked the scene where Kuroo realises that he has fucked up. I took it from there and ran with it.
> 
> Thanks for reading.
> 
> (Also, English is not my mother tongue, so dear native speakers, I apologize for butchering that beautiful language of yours. That would be all.)


End file.
